


Not that fine

by Insertsmartnamehere



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt Wyatt Logan, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Rufus and Lucy save the day, Some lame jokes, Whump, Wyatt needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 14:50:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insertsmartnamehere/pseuds/Insertsmartnamehere
Summary: He had been beaten up before, Lucy told herself, and he had survived it every time.Somehow, the thought didn't comfort her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I, alas, do not own any of these characters, nor the lifeboat.   
> Comments and kudos make me smile!

‘Wyatt! Wyatt!’

Somehow it had only taken a few weeks for this instinct to kick in: when in trouble, call for Wyatt. Rufus, next to her, raised his arms like a boxer. He looked at her from the corners of his eyes, his brow wrinkled.

_I can’t fight_ , he mouthed.

Lucy nodded in response, but the men were closing in on them and she starting fearing that they might not get a choice. Haltingly, she raised her own arms.

‘Ah, does it have to be like that, beautiful? We don’t mean any harm…’ one of the men said. The guy next to him grinned.

Rufus took her arm an pulled her half behind his back. ‘You wanna get to her? You’ll have to get through me, first.’

The independent woman in Lucy revolted a little at that, but mostly, her heart swelled with gratefulness. She wanted to touch Rufus’ shoulder, somehow let him know she appreciated the gesture, even if it wouldn’t get them anywhere. Before she could, however, someone came rushing around the corner. The first man was on the ground within seconds. She stood frozen.

‘Run!’ Wyatt yelled, ducking and taking a swing at the grinning guy, who was no longer grinning. 'I’ll see you at the meeting-point. Go!’

Her heart beat too loud and too fast. She couldn’t just run, could she? Leave him to fend of six men on his own? Punches were thrown so fast she wasn’t sure who’s fists were who’s anymore.

'Rufus!’ Wyatt sounded out of breath. 'Get Lucy and leave!’

Rufus grabbed her arm again. Then they were running, leaving behind the small street, the taverns in which they had looked for Flynn, the drunken 1815-men, who were so similar to drunken 2016-men. They didn’t stop till they had reached the square assigned as their meeting-point. There, Rufus let go of her and put his hands on his knees, panting. She leaned against the wall of a building and momentarily closed her eyes.

'God,’ Rufus groaned. 'And I thought I hated history in high school.’

'Well,’ Lucy tried to shake the adrenaline that had left her knees weak. _Nothing has happened. It was a close call, but nothing happened_. 'Let me tell you: this isn’t exactly as I envisioned it in college, either. Though you defending me was quite gallant.’

Rufus straightened up and huffed. 'Keeping chivalry alive since 1983.’

Their banter was broken by the arrival of Wyatt. He came limping from one of the side streets, an arm wrapped around his mid-section and blood trickling down from a cut near his eyebrow. His cheekbone was already turning purple.

'O God, Wyatt!’ Lucy was with him within seconds. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but he flinched back. They fell useless to her side. 'Are you okay? O, what am I saying, of course you are not okay. Do we need to find a doctor? Do you want to sit down?’

Rufus caught up with them and hovered next to Wyatt, seemingly unsure if he had to assist the other man.

'I am fine,’ Wyatt said curtly. 'How are you two?’

His eyes sought hers, and she could see the fear now, fear that wasn’t directed at his own well-being.

'Nothing happened,’ she hastened to say. 'They were – you came just in time. They didn’t touch us.’

He let go a rush of air, taking a deep breath immediately after, as if trying to steady himself. 'Rufus?’ he asked.

'She’s right,’ he said. 'We’re okay. No harm done. You, though, are looking a little worse for wear.’

'I am fine,’ he repeated. Lucy could see the moment he shifted from worried friend to hardened soldier; he squared his shoulders, set his jaw. 'Have you found out anything about Flynn? I, for one, can’t wait to get out of here.’

'We haven’t – ’ Rufus started, but Lucy didn’t hear the rest of that sentence. Her eye had fallen upon a ladder standing against one of the buildings on the other side of the square, and realization hit her with violent force. It must have been the exhaustion catching up with her, making her brain slow, for how could she have forgotten about this? Yes, sure, it had been a very minor battle in the grand scheme of the war, taking no more than a week and an amount of lives that had never even made it into the books, but the historical impact had been significant, nevertheless.

'– Lucy?’ She blinked a few times. Both Rufus and Wyatt were looking at her with worry etched all over their faces.

'I know,’ she said.

'You know what, exactly?’ Rufus asked wide-eyed.

The words tumbled from her mouth. 'I know where Flynn is. I know what he is doing here. He is going to bring ladders to the English.’

'Ladders. Of course.’ Wyatt deadpanned. The effect died out a little when he shifted his weight and winced.

'Are you sure you are alright?’ Lucy asked. Her mind was jumping in all directions, from what Flynn was trying to do, to how they could stop him, to white-faced Wyatt, and she felt like a juggler with to many balls.

' _Fine_ ,’ he almost snarled, though the anger didn’t seem directed at her. _At who, then?_ Another ball – she shoved the question out of her mind for later. 'You were talking about Flynn. And ladders.’

'It’s the battle of New Orleans. About eight miles from here, England is trying to overthrow the American settlement, and our men are greatly outnumbered. But the English didn’t have enough ladders to climb the walls, and they lost. It played an important part in the peace conferences later, and provided us with president Andrew Jackson. I think Flynn is planning to let the English win. I think he is going to bring them ladders.'

Rufus rubbed his cheek. 'Why do there have to be so many wars?’

'Flynn is probably already there,’ Wyatt said. 'We have to reach him before he kills another president. Or president to-be. And since we can’t steal cars here… we should leave. Like, now.’

'Okay,’ Lucy said. She nodded, mostly to herself. History first. All the rest could come after that. 'We have a map somewhere, right? I think I know how to get there.’

TIMELESS

Eights miles is a long walk when the roads are barely more than dusty trails and time is snapping at your ankles. They went as fast as possible, but after no more than a mile and a half, Wyatt stumbled for the first time. Lucy and Rufus exchanged worried looks. Neither of them said anything. By now, they knew Wyatt well enough to be aware he would not admit to any pain. He just walked on, stubbornly.

After two miles, he was doubling over ever so slightly and panting.

By three, he was biting his lip. Sweat coated his brow. The purple bruising looked worse as his face got paler.

On three-and-a-half, Lucy couldn’t take it any longer. But just when she made a move to stop Wyatt, he halted. For a moment, she actually believed he would ask for help, a pause, anything. Instead, he said: 'Can you two please stop looking at me like you are waiting for me to faint?’

He shook himself like he was physically getting rid of their attention and picked up his pace again.

The surprise had them unmoving for a few heartbeats, and they hurried to catch up. They flanked Wyatt, Rufus to his right, Lucy at his left.

'Look,’ Rufus said. 'History is important. I get it. But getting all three of us home, preferably alive, is pretty important too.’

As is it was some kind of defense, Wyatt walked faster. Lucy pulled up her dress from her feet, almost jogging. 'Hey,’ she said. 'Hey, just… stop for a moment, alright?’

'Because to be honest,’ Rufus shrugged apologetic, 'you do look like you are about to faint.’

At that, Wyatt produced his trademark crooked grin, though it closely resembled a grimace. 'You should see the other guys.’

’Okay, stop. Stop walking.’ It was the restraining hand Rufus put on his shoulder, that finally had him halting. 'Because that, my friend, is a cliché only used by people who are feeling awful. I know. I watch movies.’

Wyatt rolled his eyes. When he tried to raise a hand, however, maybe to run it through his hair or drag it along his face, he froze. Lucy and Rufus were both at his service immediately, steadying him by elbow and shoulder. He took three slow, measured breaths. Carefully, he put his arm back against his abdomen and hissed.

He gathered his strength before looking at them again. 'Stop it. Please, stop it. I wasn’t the one being assaulted, for Gods sake. I can’t believe I almost let you two come to harm! Again! I should be worrying over you, not the other way around.’

So that was the anger, Lucy thought. Not directed at them, or even Flynn: he was beating up himself about what happened.

'Look,’ she said. 'We had to split up. It wasn’t your fault. If anything, it was mine. It wouldn’t have happened if I had thought of the battle earlier.’

Any protests were cut short by Rufus. 'It’s the fault of those drunken morons, and no one elses, okay? Self-loathing isn’t going to save the day.’

Wyatt seemed to grip that statement as a drowning men would, well, a lifeboat. 'Rufus is right. We still have to get to Flynn. After that, you can call hospitals or tuck me in all you want. For now, we are soldiers.’

Not quite sure that was the right course, Lucy swallowed. But what could she really do? Drag him back to the lifeboat with force?

'Alright,’ she said. 'But you tell us when things get too bad.’

He nodded, and it was the least convincing thing she had ever seen.

TIMELESS

Eventually, they made it to the battleground, where everything was deadly silent. It was actually very close to where they had parked the lifeboat; a pity they had made that whole trip to the city for no reason. If they hadn’t, they might have all been okay right now.

While they sneaked up to the camp of the English and crouched out of sight of the guards, trying to come up with a plan, Lucy kept looking at Wyatt. His face was pinched, his lips a tight line, and now they were sitting, he almost curled into himself.

Suddenly Rufus whispered: 'Flynn.’

Lucy jerked her head around and indeed: Flynn was crossing the camp, in between two very broad men, who were holding his arms and looking none too friendly.

'Looks like the problem is solving itself!’ Rufus voice was low, but enthusiastic. 'Finally. I was beginning to wonder how he always teams up with the big guys while we are being dragged around by the police.’

The sound of someone retching, distracted them from gloating over Flynn. Lucy turned so quickly she almost gave herself a whiplash. It was Wyatt, sitting on his knees, simultaneously throwing up and trying to curl into a ball. He whimpered.

'O God,’ Rufus had paled within seconds. 'Lucy, help me get him on his back. I remember something.’

A shiver ran trough her. Still, she helped Wyatt lay back. He tried to protest, but it was weak, and she vaguely wondered when it had gotten this bad, how she could have missed the transition from _not fine_ to _possibly dying_. Wyatt hissed and clenched his fists, his fingernails digging bloody half-moons. She put her hand over his, unsure how to provide comfort to a Delta Force.

By now, Rufus was untucking his shirt.

'What are you doing?’ she asked. Her voice shook a little.

'Checking for internal bleeding. Can be caused by blunt force to the belly.’

'And you are a medical professional since when?’ Wyatt groaned from his position on the ground.

Tears had gathered in the corners of his eyes, but at least he was talking.

'I looked up some stuff after the whole Lincoln-affair. I like to be prepared.’

Carefully, Rufus pressed down on Wyatts abdomen. His back arched; he could barely bite back a scream. 'Hey,’ he panted. 'Warn a guy.’

'Sorry, sorry.’ Rufus muttered, but he had paled even more and that was enough to tell Lucy all she needed to know.

'We have to get you to a hospital. Right now!’

Wyatt tried to push himself upright. He failed; his arms were trembling too much. Lucy could feel his fast pulse where her wrist touched his.

'No!’ he protested. ‘We have important things to do and I am – ’

'Not fine,’ Lucy finished his sentence. Suddenly, the panic made way for determination and she looked her friend in the eye. 'I don’t care what happens. We are going to get you home. You will not die for history.’

Rufus nodded.

A silence followed in which they both waited for Wyatts reaction. It came, though in the form of a abstract sentence: 'Rufus, give me your belt.’

'Give you - what?’

'Your belt. Moving isn’t going to be fun, but if the British hear me yell… I need to bite down on something.’

Hearing Wyatt admit his pain, even if it was in this practical fashion, only strengthened Lucy’s resolve. Rufus fiddled to get his belt and folded it in two before helping Wyatt grip it between his teeth.

'Okay,’ he muttered. 'Soldiers, right? Let’s go.’

Together, they pulled Wyatt up, and Lucy was thankful that the leather muffled any sounds for more than one reason. She was sure a scream would have ripped all her unsteady calm to pieces.

Luckily, the lifeboat was close by indeed. It still took them about twenty minutes to reach it. With Rufus pulling and her helping from the ground, they worked a dazed Wyatt inside. He dropped into his chair heavily and pulled up his legs. His fingers were to uncoordinated to get the buckles.

'Let me do that,’ Lucy said, carefully taking them and securing him. She looked at where Rufus was pushing buttons. 'Do you think time travel is bad for people with internal bleeding?’

'I think most things are bad for people with internal bleeding,’ he said tensely.

The movement started, her stomach rolled. Then everything disappeared for a moment. …

TIMELESS

'You had like zero color left in your face! The situation was so dire and all I could think was: if I wanted to see Fifty Shades of Gray, I would have asked Jiya, not you.’

'Funny,’ Wyatt said, but his anger wasn’t convincing and they all laughed. After a surgery gone well and multiple bags of blood, he almost looked healthy again, even though he had just woken up on his back in a hospital bed.

Slowly, his face turned serious. 'And Flynn?’ he asked.

'Flynn got back not long after we did,’ Lucy answered. 'I think he had to run. Nothing changed. For once, we aren’t even mentioned in a journal or something.’

'So no new movies about us?’

She shook her head, smiling. 'None.’

In the silence that fell after that, Lucy felt the irresistible need to confront them with her thoughts. 'I can’t stop thinking about what could have happened,’ she admitted. 'What if we hadn’t gotten back in time?’

Wyatt shook his head. 'This life we live now? There are way to many what-ifs already, without us making up more for every tiny mistake. I am here. You and Rufus are here. We are fine, for real this time.’

''Cause that’s what teams do, right?’ Rufus grinned. 'Protect each other?’

With a sigh, Lucy looked at both men, her team, her friends. Wyatt was right; it was no use thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong, that still could go wrong. They were here, they were fine. For now, that was enough.


End file.
